Becky says things about … bad moods

I’m not sure why. I just hate everything and everyone and I wish everything would just disappear and leave me in a world of blackness so that I can fully contemplate my dark terrible mood.

(I wanted to write ‘dark terrible mood’ in different sized fonts, but apparently WordPress won’t let you change the size of individual words in a sentence. No. You have to change the entire paragraph. THAT has just taken the ruddy biscuit. I HATE WordPress.)

Yesterday, everything made me angry. The ticket gates at Surbiton and Wimbledon stations were open and unmanned. SO WHY DID I SPEND MONEY ON A TICKET THEN???? Look, National Rail, if you can’t be bothered to man your stations, then I can’t be bothered to buy a ticket. That’s how it works. But you can guarantee the one time I DON’T buy a ticket, your stations will be manned up to the max. You probably wouldn’t be able to MOVE for mans.

I got annoyed in Nero’s, as well. The man in front of me changed his mind SIX TIMES about what muffin he should get.

I WILL BUY YOU ALL THE MUFFINS IN THE F***ING WORLD, JUST GET THE F*** OUT OF MY WAY AND NEVER DARKEN MY DOOR AGAIN WITH YOUR INDECISIVE F***ING QUIBBLING

Then later, on the train back to Surbiton, my carriage was filled with happy smiling schoolgirls, obviously on their way back from a BRILLIANT school trip to London, probably involving the London Eye, or packed lunches in Hyde Park in the sun, or basking on top of London tour buses, or a graceful boat trip down the Thames, and their happy sun-blushed faces made me want to ASSASSINATE EACH AND EVERY ONE OF THEM.

Then, Sainsbury’s didn’t have the salad dressing I like.

OH YOU ARE KIDDING ME

I shouted to myself, not even caring that I’d made a toddler look up at me in alarm. Stupid toddler.

I arrived home to a small pile of window cleaning and pizza pamphlets by the front door.

WHY CAN’T PEOPLE JUST LEAVE ME ALONE?????????????????

I cried at the very small pile of paper.

Today has not fared much better. I popped into University, and was faced by a boy walking around in shoes with very loud yellow soles. Man, it annoyed me.

(That photo just took three minutes to load. Can you believe that? THREE MINUTES????)

And, the icing on the shitty horrible cake – I get home and am faced with THIS (here go another three minutes I’ll never get back):

It’s Blue-Tack. A ball of Blue-Tack on the carpet. Why is it there? Where has it come from?

‘OH, WHY HAS THIS HAPPENED???!!!!’

I yelled at the Blue-Tack. It said nothing. Just sat there, blue and tacky. What a bastard.

I threw it away. I didn’t even place it on a more suitable surface, such as my desk, or the bookshelf, or in my pencil pot. No. Fuck the Blue-Tack. Just get out of my sight.

Hopefully my bad mood will wear off. Maybe the sun and the cloudless sky through the window will cheer me. Maybe not. I think I’ll just have to sit it out. And I’ll tell you one thing for nothing: if that shitting pigeon doesn’t stop cooing on the roof, I will go